House of Mercy Chapter 1
by dianty
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Supernatural tv show. Although any original charactors or ideas in this story are my own. Also please note that the town and events are not real and exist in my imagination.Here is the first fanfic I have ever writt
1. Chapter 1

House of Mercy

Chapter 1

Sam and Dean sit at a small diner in Nebraska an hour outside of Iowa. The waitress with a husky voice asks, "What'll be boys".

"Two coffees, black" Dean replies not taking his eyes off the paper. Sam, staring out the window into the darkness, nods his head in agreement.

"A Family Massacre in Roberts, Iowa. No murder weapon, no finger-prints and no witnesses. It says here that everyone except the wife was found in their rooms on the floor at the foot of their beds with their throats cut. The wife was found on the kitchen floor. No suspects at this time" Dean quietly read aloud the paper. "What 'cha think?"

The waitress returns with the coffees and sets them in front of the two men. "You want anything else?"

Sam turns away from the window and replies, "No thanks".

The waitress states, "That will be a buck twenty whenever you're ready".

Dean reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and gives the waitress two dollars. "Keep the change".

As she walks away Sam tells his brother "Sounds like a hunt to me. How far away is it?"

"We can make by dawn if we drive straight through the night", Dean replies.

"Ok" Sam stares out the window.

Early the next morning, the two brothers are sitting in a local hotel room researching the murders and the houe. Sam is sitting at the computer researching the house history. Dean sits on the bed reading and re-reading the last three days newspaper. He convinced the hotel manager the old papers would help the brothers decide what to do during their visit. "You got anything?" Dean asked Sam.

"Looks like the house is an old farmhouse built around 1930 by a Walter Richmond. Now, Walter was a wealthy oil man and mayor of Roberts during the 30's. No murders or foul play occurred at the house….oh, here is something of interest though. The Peterson's bought the house in 1999 from Walter's great, great-grandson. It appears that no one has lived in the house since Walter died in 1964 at the age of 60. It seems that the local people believe the house is haunted which is why it was empty for 35 years. The Petersons moved here from Des Moines and were not aware of the stories." Sam looked up from his computer.

Dean raises an eyebrow and replies, "Well, let's check out the house".

The two brothers get into the car and head north toward the farmhouse.

"The scenery is nice here, huh, Sammy?" Dean asks Sam who is staring out the window.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Pretty." Sam replied barely taking his eyes off from the cornfields and rolling hills.

"You okay? You seem alittle lost in your thoughts?" Dean questioned Sam.

Sam looks away from the window. "Yeah, I am fine." He looks down at the map. "Take a right here".

Dean puts on the brakes and make a quick, sharp right turn. "Thanks for the warning." Dean menuevars the car onto the curvey, dead end road.

After two miles of idle chit-chat about the weather and scenery, the two pull up to a rusty gate swaying in the wind. Dean pulls up and stops the car in front of the gate. The two grab a few essentials from the trunk and approach the gate blocking the gravel lane. The lane twists through a vast over-run estate, and stops at a large farm house. Dean ducks under the crime scene tape followed by Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural rather it is television show. The original characters and stories are mine. Any similarities to real people and places are purely coincidental.

Chapter 2

After pushing the gate open they begin to walk up the road to the house. After a brisk walk, Dean and Sam step up onto a wrap around porch on the charming farm house.

"Maybe we can rent this place after we finish the hunt? You know, we could settle down have a 'normal' life?" Sam said jokingly, taking a seat on the porch swing.

Dean smiled, "Yeah it could be a cozy little home base." Dean picks the lock and the door swings open. "Come on now, stop messing around".

"Always business with you."

Dean slowly enters the house, turning on a flashlight to light his path. Sam reluctantly gets up and follows Dean into the house. The pair begin the investigation when a loud crash erupts from the back of the house. Dean looks at Sam and pulls out the revolver. The brothers clumsily run down the hallway and into the kitchen where the commotion is coming from. Two shadowed figures are in the middle of a brawl on the kitchen floor. Dean aims the flashlight and revolver at the shadows. The figures stop moving.

"What the…," Sam stares at the two figures on the floor.

"Get up," Dean Demands, "What are you doing here?"

A tall, thin blonde stands up. Jo blushes and straightens out her wrinkled and displaced clothing. A short dark-haired girl with translucent skin stands up and begins primping.

"Well, explain yourself." Dean says sternly.

"I don't have to explain anything" replies Jo coldly.

"Yes you really do" Dean sarcastically replies cocking his head slightly.

The dark-haired girl slowly starts heading for the door and nonchalantly says, "Well, no reason for me to interrupt a reunion."

"Fine, but first let me do this" Jo turns around and plunges a stake into the unexpecting chest of the second girl. The girl gasps, grabs her chest, and then crumbles. "How 'bout a cup of coffee?" Jo smugly rubs her hands together as if trying to brush dust off them.

Sam and Dean sit opposite of Jo in the local diner. Jo is concentrating on her nails. Sam is frequently changing position and purposely avoiding eye contact with either of the two. Dean intently stares at Jo. The waitress interrupts the silence.

"My name is Anne. Would you like to see the menu?"

The three look up at the 40 something, blonde squeezed into a uniform a size too small. "Yeah" they respond in unison.

"So", Dean starts the conversation, "Did you lie to your mother again?"

"No. I am ready to start hunting and follow in my father's footsteps. I told her that. I am a decent hunter. I followed that Vamp from two towns over. She killed that family. Wanted to make it look like a murder to keep the hunters off her." Jo finishes looking quite pleased with herself.

"Hmm. Interesting…."

"Not a bad idea," Sam thinking over the idea, "If Vamps did that more then hunters would have a difficult time tracking them".

"So you killed one Vamp, that still doesn't make you a hunter." Dean informed Jo.

The waitress came back with menus for the three of them. "I will come back in a few minutes to check on you".

Jo began to argue but then stopped. _What's the point anyway? He is always trying to protect me. _

Sam feeling the tension gets up. "Bathroom break. If the waitress comes back, order me a burger and fries".

After Sam left the table, there was an awkward silence. Jo went back to fiddling with her nails and Dean diverted his eyes.

"I am not mad at you for your father being involved with mine's death."

"You're not? Could've fooled me. You yelled at me, if you don't remember."

"I was upset and all. It was the first time I had heard the story," Jo looks intensely at Dean.

Dean gets lost in her watery eyes. "I am sorry about your father's death. I know how it feels to lose a father." Dean uncomfortably rests his hands on the table unsure want to do with them. _Hope she doesn't cry, I hate it when girls cry. _

"I know." Jo gently places her hands on top of Deans. "I have missed you around the Roadhouse."

Dean looks up surprised by the sentiment. Uncomfortably he replies, "I have missed you to". _More then you know. _

"Did I miss something?" Sam staring at the two in confusion. "Now that you two have made up can we order? I'm starving!" Sam sat down.

After lunch, Sam sat in the car ready to move on to the next hunt. Dean and Jo remain standing at the entrance to the diner. Sam watches the two closely. _Wonder what they are talking about?_ Dean and Jo talk animatedly for several minutes. Dean turns to walk away and Jo reaches for his hand. Dean turns around and Jo gently kisses him.

"That was unexpected," Sam thought out loud.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural rather it is television show. The original characters and stories are mine. Any similarities to real people and places are purely coincidental.

Chapter 3: The Antique dealer

Dean pulled the Impala out of the Bertha's Diner parking lot toward the interstate. Sam watched Dean from the passenger seat. "So..," he raised his eyebrows.

"So, what?" Dean glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye. He takes a left turning into a neighborhood.

"So, you and Jo, huh?" Sam was about to begin to interrogate Dean when Sam realized they had turned the opposite direction of the interstate. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Back to the farmhouse," Dean nonchalantly responded. He reached over and turned on the radio. Country music blared from the speakers and he immediately began flipping through the channels. Sam watched Dean adjust the radio. _Please no more hard rock. _ Sam knew better, Dean couldn't resist hard rock. Dean stopped flipping channels and began singing "I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I love you".

Dean started strumming his fingers against the steering wheel when Sam cried out, "Ok, enough already. You are killin' my ears!" Sam reached over and shut off the radio, "You really need better taste in music".

"I was listening to that! Oh, and Oops I Did It Again, is not exactly good taste in music." Dean sarcastically lashed at his brother. The impala headed down the country road toward the farmhouse.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Anyways, why are we headed back to the farmhouse? Thought the hunt was over?"

"Yeah, well, I get the feeling something else is going on. I don't buy the vampire trying to stay under hunter radar. I just want to look around. If we don't find anything we will take off."

The brothers pulled the impala up to the front of the farmhouse. Not certain what they were going to find, Sam and Dean entered the house over-prepared. They were loaded down with stakes, silver bullets, salt, and other miscellaneous weapons.

They systematically examined the first and second floor finding nothing out of the ordinary. Sam and Dean were finishing up in the living room when they heard footsteps in the hallway. The two exchanged looks. Guns at the ready they positioned themselves at the room's door leading to the hallway. A tall, muscular male with pitch black hair quickly walked into the room. His eyes scanned the room looking for something. He didn't find what he wanted. He turned to leave the room, Dean and Sam stood pointing their guns at the man's heart. "What the hell?!" The man yelped in a baritone voice and jumped two feet in the air.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded. "What are you doing here? This is a crime scene."

The man was a little over 6 foot tall and built like rock. The man sized up the brothers and decided he easily take the brothers if the equation did not include guns. He was bigger and stronger then either of the two. "I could say the same too you." He coolly replied.

Sam noticed the man was extremely calm considering he had two guns pointed at him. Dean appeared to have read Sam's mind, he tightened the grip on his gun.

"Well, it's a good thing I asked first," Dean snidely replied, "Feel free to answer me now."

The man took his time to respond, "I am an antique and relic dealer. I came here to collect something that belongs to me," He gave the pre-rehearsed line smoothly. "I did not realize anyone was home."

Sam noticed that the man was holding an old, tattered book in his right hand. "What's that? A guide to antiques?" Sam nodded his head at the aged book.

"Tell me who you are?" The man requested, "I told you who I am".

Dean eyeing the book, "Hand the book to Sammy".

Sam slowly walked toward the man. He kept his right hand tightly griped on the pistol. When he reached within arms length Sam held out his hand, "Ok, hand it over".

The man uneasily handed a tattered book with yellowed pages to Sam. Sam examined it, "The Bible? What is an antique dealer doing with a Bible? I didn't realize there was a market for old Bible"

The man appeared uncomfortable. He debated whether he should lie or tell the truth. _If I tell the truth, most likely they will think I am crazy. If I lie, what will the do? Do they believe I am here to collect an antique? Who are they anyways? _As he spoke, he began to pace."Ok here is the truth. My name is Tim and I own an antique and relic shop," He nervously began to explain why he was as the farm house. "Three months ago, a writing desk arrived at my shop. It was beautiful and I sold it within a week. Then, the man I sold it to," He paused taking a nervous deep breath. He quickly said, "passed away." Tim paused then continued talking slower. Telling the story helped him relax. He felt a large weight lifted off his chest, "The desk was returned to me. I immediately sold it to a second buyer. They too passed away. Well, murdered," The man placed his hand over his mouth which muffled the end of his sentence. _They think I am crazy._ He ran his hands through his black hair._ I knew they would think that. I am normal! Well, was normal until this stupid desk. _

Dean and Sam dumbfoundedly starred at the man. They had no idea he would confess so easily. It was difficult assert if the man was telling the truth. Dean broke the silence, "Back up. The other owners of the desk died?"

Tim hated that so many people have died. He felt responsible. Tim gulped, "Yes. Each person's throat was slit. No finger prints at the crime scene. At least that's what the newspapers said."

Sam lowered his gun. Dean was slightly more skeptical and did not retreat as quickly. "My name is Sam and this is Dean. What were you planning to do with the bible?" Sam asked him.

"I don't know. I thought if I put it in the desk drawer or on the desk I could make it stop. Its not a good plan, but its all I had. I am not crazy. The desk is the only link. I have gone over it in my head multiple times. I know it sounds crazy, but when I heard about this family. . . the only connection is the desk. I am not crazy," Tim was rambling and he knew it. Voicing his thoughts aloud made Tim realize how fragile his mental status could be.

"You're not crazy," Sam reassured him. "Dean and I will help you."

"The jury's still out on the sanity part," Dean sarcastically remarked, "Let's find the desk?" Dean lowered his gun.

**Author Note: **I don't like the title to the story. I have decided to take the story in a different direction then originally planned. I am sorry the title does not make much sense. It is my first Fan-Fic so I am learning as I go, please forgive. Comments will be greatly appreciated if you have any ideas or opinions. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural rather it is television show. The original characters and stories are mine. Any similarities to real people and places are purely coincidental.

House of Mercy: Chapter 4

The Haunted Desk

"What kind of desk are we looking for?"

"The haunted kind?" Dean said under his breath as he confidently left the room.

"What's his problem?" Tim's gaze followed Dean out of the room. "Never mind. It is an antique oak writing desk with an accordion lid. The desk was in mint condition."

Sam and Tim followed Dean into the hallway. Dean had made his way into the master bedroom. A king size bed on a Hollywood frame stood against the wall opposite of the door. A homemade, patch-work quilt covered the bed. The wood floors creaked as Dean approached an old, oak writing desk sitting to the right of the bed. "Is this the desk?" Dean questioned Tim.

Nodding his head, he replied, "Yeah." Tim confidently approached the desk, Bible in hand. He opened the accordion and placed the Bible on top of the desk. He waited, nothing happened.

"Boo!" Dean shouted, eyes sparkling with mischief. Tim jumped and went white as a ghost. Laughing, "What did you think was going to happen?"

Tim blushed and stared at his feet, "I don't know." His dark brown eyes met Sam's, "Now what do we do?"

Dean and Sam exchanged understanding glances. "You will help me carry this outside. Then you will not interfere and just watch. No matter what happens you will not interfere. OK?" Sam instructed Tim as Dean walked out of the room and outside. Sam hoped that the antique dealer would not object to burning the desk.

As Sam and Tim were attempting to fit the desk through the bedroom door, Dean began sitting up a fire pit. The desk had to be tipped and wiggled in order to fit through the narrow door frame. Along the bottom of the desk Sam noticed an inscription "To my beloved. May your house always show mercy to those in need".

Ten minutes later:

The three stood outside watching the desk burn. Tim had protested at first but was persuaded to burn the antique when he was informed it would save lives. After the fire, Tim got into his car and drove away. The two brothers decided to stay in town for a little longer to ensure that their job was complete.

Three months went by before the old farmhouse was sold. The town thought that the house sold relatively fast considering the murders. The price was good and the couple was from Utah. They did not know of the murders, just that they had gotten a good deal. The couple lived and raised a family there with no signs of any supernatural activities.

**Author's note: **Thanks for reading. This is my first completed fan fic story. Let me know what you think of it. I am always open to suggestions and would appreciate any comments you may have. I also do not have a beta, so I apologize for any errors you may have found while reading.


End file.
